Ornamentational Arousal: The Liberties Of Lemnear
by Quillon42
Summary: Looks into an alternate course of events in which the Silver Champion is bestowed with a bit more treasure from the Limestone Caves Mage before encountering Vuan up close and personal. The sensations derived from this encounter are fully realized by the lady through a tryst with her Battler in Bronze.


ORNAMENTATIONAL AROUSAL: THE LIBERTIES OF LEMNEAR

By Quillon42

While she was out in the starkest of primeval hinterlands with her ever-faithful leathery-winged familiar, the savior of silver known as Lemnear had hoped to come across a vein or two of valuable deposits within the deeps of the earth, minerals the make and hue of that honorable color which she championed in the midst of her forbidding realm. Unfortunately for this lady with locks of the loveliest lavender-gray, she would discover a cache not of precious metals but rather of prisoner maidens—and for a time most fleeting, the warrior would become one of their abject number.

She scanned the chamber cluttered with these wayward cadets so comely, ladies who would lapse into becoming concubines against their conscience, slaves of all flavors for their captors to consume so continuously and completely. Lemnear took most pity on a waif with shining shocks of sloe, a miss with shimmering tresses of stygian whose name was Lian. This lass would be all the more ravishing, charms completely inescapable if she weren't so shy.

More than anything the aspect that made it utterly appalling was the fact that Lian, Lemnear noted, had to fall in line herein with the very woman who had wrought her. Grimly and nervously the girl would glance across the dreary dankness at her mother, who shared her space now for that same atrocious objective of those insatiable savages who would plunder the purity of every woman with whom they would have their way.

Bedecking herself in the most becoming of courtesan effects, Lemnear prepared herself now, here in this alternate iteration of her famed tale, to meet with the men who wanted to mine her for her most treasured resources. In truth, the daring maiden had never yet given herself to any individual; before all of this awfulness, she kept vigil over her virtue, she preserving it, cherishing the moment hopefully not too far off in which the Champion in Bronze would enjoy her and she him. Lemnear had wanted to mate with Messhu since she could experience such adult emotions, and she was certain that the man's emotions toward her were mutual.

Now as well, even in this sleaziest of servitudes, Lemnear would keep her passionate promise of purity. For while she wore the tawdry trinkets and scraps of scarlet, the predominant presence of her flesh outshining all that was upon her…the Champion of Silver also possessed, upon her person, accoutrement so enchanted that had not been available in the slavers' storehouse. It would be this last that would certainly get the girl herself off—far more so than her momentary, ostensible masters here.

Lemnear's eyes of vivid violet devoured the derogatory panorama of prurience that was the seraglio chamber's perimeter, the sanctum sanctorum of that warthog of wantonness called Vuan. The ranger most radiant wanted instead to retch as she sighted all the entranced, voluptuous vassals of this fiefdom of filth. It was a bazaar of creamy bodies, every quivering ivory thigh and sweating powdered stomach and bared fair breast on display for these demons in human skin to purvey.

"Woman, you will come forward now."

"Master; I obey and await your tenderest of all hands."

Fearlessly Lemnear stepped on ahead, her plan in this reality more elaborate than the brash, brazen stratagem of just rushing in with her sword shearing the heavily-perfumed air. The bloated buzzard Vuan noted that the slave's irises were still violet, and not yet the subjugated vermilion reflecting his own hypnotic hold over her…it was of no matter now. Perhaps the pale cunt had come around, and saw things now his way.

Just to be certain, in any case, the lustful, living landfill Vuan now foisted his sanguine gaze upon the girl, and he grew ever more satisfied upon watching the color-flush fields of her eyes go from plum to poppy. A slaving scumbag could never be too careful after all.

Even after this shift of the eyes, so to speak, Lemnear's movements maintained the same stiffness and lassitude. Perfect for this feculent pustule to purge the foulest fire for this femme that burned within.

As the lady lowered herself now to sit at his side, Vuan slid his hand across, unfurling the cloth that was fastened across his latest slave's chest. His own unctuous irises widened in spite of himself as the mass of manure, in this version of the atmosphere so primordial, beheld bombastic breasts boasting areolas each the circumference of a quince (as all other captives' udders had the diameters of dimes).

Without a hint of hesitation, the abominable obese one hefted a porkish paw and palmed the underside of one of Lemnear's lovely bosoms, as Vuan was wont to do with each of his pretty possessions. It was easily one of the most disgusting things that his underlings saw him perpetrate…to say nothing of what they never had the opportunity to see the greasy galoot get away with, inside his own private tents.

Now, in fact, Vuan took that same offending open hand from the lady's breast to a chiffon cheek of the warrior's hindquarters, he lifting Lemnear up sans any inkling of resistance from the woman he had been convinced was under his trance. The claiming of such a sumptuous trophy drew gazes of admiration and envy from the muck mound's hired swords.

Once inside the turbid tarps, the lead slaver then threw his powerful prize onto his lumpy, lurid bed. The fetid futons had been warped out of shape from so much maidenhead that had been forcibly taken upon them. Now Vuan would make Lemnear his sixth-hundredth conquest or so, and undoubtedly one of his best.

Still twitching listlessly were the iridescent crimson irises that flickered between the eyeslits of the silver champion. The trash that would take her…he was never aware that all the brilliant baubles upon not only Lem's neck, but also her wrists, her ankles, and affixed to her waist…they were all arranged for her and her alone, by an old mage who had foreseen the femme's coming into all this trouncing trendy fashion so fatal.

All the scrolls and tomes had indeed prophesized that there would be a maiden of slate locks who would inherit the enchanted treasures of that antediluvian emporium. Yea, from the time the elders of preceding generations had discovered those modish troves, those known as the Aldo™ of Akkad, it was presaged that there would be a girl who would be destined for this fanciest of fates.

Indeed, it was for Lemnear now to realize that for which she had been brought into existence, that for which she had been placed upon this most sordid of spheres:

The Accessorization of the Ancients.

Lemnear actually allowed the stromboli of slime that was Vuan to sidle his sluglike digits across the expanse of her supple skin; to range his tetchy thumb and insidious index along the upper lengths and inner curves of the lady's lithe legs; to turn her over and scrabble at the posh peach of each quavering flank of her luscious rear; to slowly flip her back to the mattress once more, he now extending an ungodly arm to the back of her head, he softly pushing Lemnear's face down toward an intimate entity more unbecoming than any other creature the champion would ever encounter.

"Now you will pleasure me…first so with your hands…and then with your tongue."

"I serve none other than my master, and I fully embrace my fate, with total gratitude."

Such submissiveness made the hideous hippopotamus here endowed with euphoria. To have championed the Champion of Silver in this way…to be certain, he imagined in his heat, those like Gardein and Varohl would understand his having her in this manner. To be certain, no other man worth his loins would forego such an unfathomable opportunity, such an incredibly indescribable sensation…

…As the working of the digits of this dame upon his nether areas indeed…

…It was strange, though; the feeling he was experiencing now, it was somewhat familiar to him, though he was always the palmer and not the palmee…

Then Vuan stiffened—and certainly not in the way he had anticipated—when Lemnear's grasp of his grapefruits went from a slinky caress to a sudden clamp.

"Now * _you*_ are on the receiving end of the Creeper Cradle for once," the glistening-haired guardian declared to her enormous enemy above, the former indeed palming the wretched testes the same way that the latter would so many teats in the past. Lemnear leered at Vuan then, she doing her best to ape that same swinish smirk the slaver himself would radiate once he made a sister swoon for him, against her will as always.

"Anything, please," whined the wide load waste, as he began to squirm there in her grip…then he stopped, noting that Lemnear's irises had seceded back from a bloody color to their natural byzantium hue. In addition, Vuan registered that all of the sexy and stylish accessories upon the lady's throat, waist, and extremities were glowing an all the more aggressive, brighter azure.

"Anything," the ginormous garbage ball gibbered anew, as he did ever so pathetically in the arms of Gardein in the main OVAverse of the Lemnear lore, "please…I will give you whatever you desire. …The other ladies, they can all go free now! …All of my treasure hoards…Lemne…"

"What I want more than anything," seethed the sensuous soldier at the bumbling beast's feet,

her collar, bracelets, anklets, and girdle gleaming all the greater as she spoke…

"…is for you to become the eunuch you look like."

[SQUUUINNNNNCCCHHHHHH]

Verily no explosion of concussive force from any auric evil could begin to rival the starburst that had been sadistically visited upon Vuan by this most primal of prisoners. His eyes were once goading garnets, and now their coloring had receded into that of putrescent pearls as they bugged out blankly in the compromised captor's agony. There would be no chance for another enchantment on his part, either (as if it would work on the accessorized Lemnear anyway) as the lady with whom he might have lain was now committed to evicting the lewd lout's boorish body from his tent and his corrupt soul from his chunkiest of hateful husks.

Sans hesitation the Silver Championess now charged at the goon with the garroted groin, her enhanced right fist reinforcing the wreckage in Vuan's nether area, her endowed left fist then finding purchase underneath his sixth and bottom chin, her instilled right foot stamping his neck seconds later, her imbued left foot burying itself deeply within his bowels, her beauteous features crashing aggressively into his own brutish face as the jewel upon the woman's cerulean choker glared and illumined the tent in an eerie teal. The hazy signature of the final corresponding gem upon Lem's waist were the last semblances of sights that the mauled manlet would ever experience, as his last breath followed the volumes of vomit he had expelled from the attack.

At the audible issuance of these awful impacts from within the quarters of that queasy one, the flunkies of that fatty flocked in Vuan's direction, they determined to draw the lifeblood of Lemnear as she did their master. However,

[BRRRAAASSSSSHHHHHOOOOOOMMMMM]

this maneuver proved futile, and ultimately fatal, for the foolish foes as another, airborne warrior intercepted their assault and brought those buffoons low.

As it turned out here, in this rendition of the OVA epic, the Bronze Combatant Messhu was given the skinny a bit sooner by the Golden Bastard Varohl that the former was bait to bring Lemnear to the latter. Just as in the familiar anime, Messhu used raw might to unmoor himself from that which held him in place before his unholy adversary—and here, he had so reached the serail of subjugation even before Gardein could.

With infinite urgency, then, Messhu and Lemnear's flighty friend Yakku now traipsed through the trail of trounced troublemakers. "We have to hurry, Lems! I left Varohl and Gardein back at their lair, and they're pretty high maintenance as far as dates go, when it comes to patience!"

Lemnear nodded, then took a place behind her betrothed on the barbarian's bird. Messhu squeezed the shoulder of the eager flyer to prompt Yakku to vault away…then he quickly tapped the top of the animal's back to stop him a second.

Before the Sister in Silver could ask, Messhu to the minced minions underfoot: "We just kicked all your asses, LOL."

"Messhu," chided Lemnear at his ear, a rather cross look upon her flawless countenance…

"Don't abbreviate. It's so lazy!"

"Ok, ok, Lem." Then again to the downed douches: "We just kicked all your asses, Legend of Lemnear."

And then the priming and prompting of Yakku anew to push off toward the climactic conflict for which the warriors were so destined.

EPILOGUE

What occurred in the ensuing hours was much the same as had transpired in the enchanted OVA…although in this instance of it there wasn't even a loss of a videogame life by Lemnear, as had happened in the popular, true portrayal. Nay, the lady herein, given six times as many bluish bagatelles with which she could beat ass, had even singlehandledly taken down not only the Golden Gobstopper, but also the Statue of Perfidy, the Monolith of Perdition that had threatened to annihilate the land thereafter. That one red jewel third eye was no match for the half dozen dazzling doodads that adorned the Silver Sibyl's bountiful figure, and Yakku and Messhu were indispensable as well in providing a divine assist to her.

Before Messhu and Lemnear returned with old Yakks to Lian, her mother, the Mage, and the others, this pair of proper executioners of all that was evil had decided to streak back to the clouds, where everything was so much brighter and serene. Even after the extermination of the trio of vilest Vs that were Vuan, Varohl, and Valkisas, keeping company up here atop the cumuli still literally outshone all the recovering kingdoms undercloud.

It was here in this instance, at last, that the Mistress of Silver could let slip her perpetual guard, and allow herself to surrender to a servitude most sensual with her brassy Beau of Bronze. As it turned out, in this version of the epic verse in OVA form, Lemnear had maintained certain crops, bridles, and other implements to tame Yakku in times when the atavistic cockatiel would act out of line. These were utilized alternatingly by Lem and Mesh alike in the glorious process of gratifying one another's person.

As had been recorded in the scrolls of scopophiliac sorcerers throughout the ages, Lemnear would solemnly wear a marvelous muzzle upon her mouth while her tawny-locked lover would take her from behind, he all lips and digits upon her virgin fawn figure.

Forsooth, upon these heavenly cloud patterns, this fellow with mane of fallow would allow his mouth to roam most nomadically and naughtily upon his taupe-topped paramour, the femme in slinkiest fetters as Messhu mwahed all over her, over her ample ripened breasts bearing areolas the size of silver medals; over the pillow-soft plane of her opalescent belly, his nose nestling within her navel between so many taut chain links; over the limitless lengths of her mystically milky thighs; over the argent elysium of her silk smooth back, again the man smooching between so many solid links; over the ashen cushions of her lovely lucent rear. So it would be, in the course of one day indeed, Messhu would progress from killing Valkisas to kissing this gal's vanilla ass with renewed vigor.

Lemnear's gleaming glaucous eyes sparkled as she hefted a quirt in hand and looked to a harness eking out of Yakku's sack. For certain, her revenge against Messhu in the minutes to come, for all of his consensual transgressions against her in the last several moments, would be sweeter than anything she had ever fulfilled against Vuan or Gardein. It would bring the lady a pleasure rivaled only by the return of her parents, which eventually occurred in this version of the verse, if not in others.


End file.
